


Beware the Knife

by ALzzza



Series: Beware the Knife [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner RPF, The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Hurt, M/M, Newts Death Scene, Page 250, Page 250 Rewrite, The Death Cure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 10:51:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16094174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALzzza/pseuds/ALzzza
Summary: “Newt.” Thomas staggered towards him, his voice smooth and strong and quiet, so incredibly sure. “Newt, it’s me. It’s Tommy.” His voice so sure until it wasn’t. Until it shook like his burning limps, until it was scared and wobbling just like the tears held in his eyes.Or the one where Newt doesn't die, but Thomas does.





	Beware the Knife

“Newt?”

Thomas’ voice rang out against empty walls. The sound of a war raging just outside, but it all became backwash. White noise. It all became nothing. The heat that crawled up his sides, the pounding behind his eyes, his pulse trying desperately to break free from under his skin. All of that, distant. Moving to the back of his mind as if he could turn it down like a tv show. Like he could just walk away and forget.

Newt was faced away. He stood in front of him far to strongly for someone who had been keeling over seconds ago. Far to strongly for someone who had been pleading Thomas to kill him, for someone willing to save him the trouble and do it himself.

“Newt.” Thomas staggered towards him, his voice smooth and strong and quiet, so incredibly sure. “Newt, it’s me. It’s Tommy.” His voice so sure until it wasn’t. Until it shook like his burning limps, until it was scared and wobbling just like the tears held in his eyes.

“You need to hold on for me, okay. Just hold on.” Thomas choked on his own breath, a sick wet sob barely escaping before his lips thinned tightly. His footsteps greeting the empty walk way like a bomb in a library. Newt didn’t move.

Thomas stayed still, hovering like a second skin just behind him. Newt didn’t move.

Thomas reached out with his hand, barely breathing. Eyes still shinning. Newt didn’t move.

“Newt, please.”

Newt _didn’t_ move.

\--His eyes blurred –

Newt _didn’t move._

\--Throbbing, ears echoing –

_Newt didn’t move._

\--Screaming like thunder, deafening —

_Newtdidn’tmove Newt didn’t mo ve Newt d id n’t m o ve._

\--Too loud, too loud, too loud --

“Newt… Please... Newt, please- It’s Tommy.”

Moving. Moving. Moving. Newt’s face a sick parody. Black painting against graying skin. It looks like he was _dying_.

_dying dying dying_

An inhuman growl.

Newt in his face.

_it looks like he’s dying_

An inhuman scream to match Newt’s growling tore from Thomas' throat. His pulse slowing. He had Newt pinned to the ground. _(Newt. Newt. Newt.)_ He was thrashing and snarling. ( _This was Newt.)_ His teeth bared and eyes fierce yet empty. This wasn’t Newt. ( _He’s still there. This is Newt.)_ How could this be Newt? _(He’s there. It’s him. It’s Newt.)_ Newts thrashing slowed to a stop and his eyes seemed to focus more securely on Thomas’ face inches apart. Thomas breathed in shakily, he relaxed minutely. “Newt?”

“I’m sorry, Tommy.”

Thomas’ eyes sharpened at Newts breathy words. Opening his mouth to speak but, his question quickly turned into a shocked gasp. Newt had a knife. His face morphed into something foreign and cruel. He shoved Thomas off his grip on Newt had long gone slack. Newt had a knife. Where did he get a knife? Newt had a knife. Oh. Another gasp tore from his throat as his eyes searched for Newt. Distantly he heard yelling. And there were screams. Hands restraining Newt from behind. He thinks there’s a voice. Is someone holding him? He’s drowning. Water too thick.

Newt had a knife.

 _Oh_.

Newt had had a knife but, he doesn’t anymore.

Newt thrashed in their grip, mouth open in a silent roar that Thomas barely registers. Newt had stabbed him. _No. Everything’s wrong._ Why was everything wrong? He tore his gaze away from Newt so he could follow the hands on him up to a familiar face. Minho?

“It’s Minho, Thomas. Thomas! Hey, look at me!”

Minho. Why was Minho here? Newt stabbed me. Why isn’t Minho saving Newt?

“Thomas, it’s okay. It’ll be okay.”

Minho has to save Newt.

“Newt’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Thomas eyes felt really heavy suddenly. _Why did it matter? He has to save Newt._

“Thomas! Stay awake!”

“Minho.” Thomas eyes startled open. Everything felt numb. He’d been stabbed. Newt. “Minho. You have to help Newt. He stabbed me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” It felt like he was turning to stone. His eyes layered with exhaustion. Why was he awake? He’s so tired.

Newt! “Minho. Minho.” Thomas eyes found Minho’s suddenly focused. “Min. You have to tell him okay? Tell him I’m sorry. He stabbed me.”

“Thomas you’re going to be fine.”

“No.” He slurred. “Newt. You.” He tried to lift his hand to point. Tried to move, but barely twitched. “Minny. Min. Save Newt. Then.” His voice wasn’t recognizable, and he was quickly becoming lacks in Minho’s grip.

“Tell Newt I’m sorry.”

Thomas' eyes closed.


End file.
